Page 39 of Hottie on Her Shelf
“It’s just an apology dinner, open to the possibility of going in any direction.”
Anger tightened every line and angle on Ev’s face. “I don’t skip out on work for just dinner. I brought my A cooking game because I thought this was a date.”
That was fair. “Simmer down. If I’d called it a date, Hallie would’ve said no. I want it to be a date. If all goes according to plan, your awesome food will soften her up enough into accepting that it’s a date. For right now, though? Not a date.”
“Copernicus.” As a scientist—and avowed atheist—Everett refused to swear “like a Christian.” Instead, he used his favorite scientists, which confused everyone who didn’t really know him. “Why does this have to be so complicated?”
“Have you met women, Ev? They’re all freaking complicated. That’s what makes the payoff so sweet.”
“I’m just saying this feels more like a Scooby Doo episode than a night in the life of Swan Cove’s esteemed mayor.”
Fitz yanked out a chair from the dining table and straddled it backward. “Secondly, my parents would care if I took her to a restaurant because they’d brand tonight as me ‘consorting with the enemy.’ They’re already up my ass about Hallie’s name even being under mine on the ballot.”
“Why do they care so much, if they’re certain you’ll win no matter what?”
“Winning’s not enough. Having no contenders—that’s the way Montgomery mayors roll.” Fitz thought about it a little more. “Maybe I could lose. Not likely, but it could happen.”
Everett dumped the shrimp into the pan, gave a quick stir, then turned to face him. “Why do you care?”
“You’ve met my parents. You know they’re as single-minded about me being mayor as a kicker is about centering the ball between the goal posts for his thirty seconds of game play.”
“Forget your parents. Why do you care?” he repeated. “You’ve never liked being mayor. You oughtta be thrilled someone’s challenging you. It’s your get-out-of-jail-free card.”
God, wouldn’t that be nice dumping it all in someone else’s lap? The constant worry about budget and prioritization and placating and juggling the tourist industry representatives.
If only…
But that’d make him a horrible person. Like a dad who pushed a stroller into a mall and then walked away, abandoning his baby.
It was his inheritance, after all. His duty to both the town and the generations of Montgomerys before him that’d been drummed into him from day one. Seriously. There was a pic of him as a newborn in a onesie that said Future Mayor.
Fitz checked his watch—a Chopard Alpine Eagle his parents gave him when he “won” the first term as mayor, engraved with his new title. He had fifteen minutes to clear Ev out before Hallie arrived. Which gave him little time to shut this whole conversation down.
Shouldn’t take too long, though, since none of it was open for discussion. “I don’t hold the post because I want it. It’s my family legacy. Our duty to Swan Cove. A massive, generations-long pain in the ass. All that adds up to me not getting a vote in the matter.”
“I’ve always said I’m smarter than you—”
Fitz almost tipped over the chair as he leaned forward to cut off his friend. “Which I’ve never bought. Your science degree isn’t any better or harder than mine in public administration. It’s just different.”
“—but clearly I am smarter, if I have to point out to the duly elected leader of this town that he lives in a democratic state. Every vote counts, Fitz. Even yours.”
Again, if only…
